


Let's Get Murdered

by levendis



Series: Prompt Fics [97]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Foot Fetish, Historical Inaccuracy, Interspecies Sex, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 07:56:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8319976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levendis/pseuds/levendis
Summary: Girl meets lizard.





	

**Author's Note:**

> for classicdrwhopr0nz, who requested: Could you do something about Jenny and Vastra exploring each other, marveling over their differences, Jenny licking Vastra's scaly feet, etc? :))))

A back alley, dimly lit. Jenny couldn’t shake the feeling that she was willingly headed to her doom. A bad decision, maybe. One she couldn’t help but make, certainly. She lifted her lantern high and pressed forward.

Step into my parlour, said the spider to the fly.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” said a voice from the shadows.

“So was I,” Jenny said. She lowered her lantern, willing her eyes to see shapes in the darkness.

A figure emerged, black as pitch and moving utterly unlike a human. Shapes into a face: the flickering light of the lantern glinting against the hard planes and crevices of a monster. Or, not a monster. Not as such. A - a _something_. Jenny wasn’t sure, yet.

“There are other things you should be much more afraid of than your own sense of self-preservation,” Vastra said. She grinned, teeth bared.

“Plenty of trouble to be found, in a place like this.” Jenny found herself moving closer.

“And you’ve sought it out. You humans are always rushing head-long into catastrophe, it’ll be the end of you one day.”

Jenny’s theory that Vastra was simply a human with strange attributes, whether through disease or from birth, was becoming less and less plausible. Less implausible than the idea of her being, somehow, inhuman. There were stories, after all. Tales of otherworldly beings. Angels and demons and fairies.

“‘You humans’,” Jenny repeated, voice scratchy and small.

“Yes, _you_. Did you really think I was one of you?” Vastra winked, and then twirled around, cloak fluttering away from her.

A brief flash of green skin beneath her skirts. And claws, click-clacking against the cobblestone. Jenny swallowed.

“Your feet, ma'am,” she said, before instantly wishing she hadn’t.

Vastra huffed, smoothed down the velvet and brocade coming to a rest around her. “What about them?”

“It’s just. You’re not wearing any _shoes_.”

 

 

 

Vastra stared at her, cold and hard; the weight of a predator’s gaze. Then she burst into laughter.

“That wasn’t a joke,” Jenny said, blushing.

“I’m not wearing shoes, no,” Vastra said. Sidestepping the issues of delicate, confusing human emotions. “I’ve no need for them.”

“You’ve no need for clothing at all, ma'am, from what you’ve told me. And yet…” Jenny shrugged, gestured at Vastra’s finery.

“And yet?” Vastra prompted.

Jenny lifted her chin, a hint of defiance in her gaze as she locked eyes with Vastra. “That’s a lovely hat you’re wearing, ma'am. The feathers and all, it suits you.”

“Was that a compliment? The mouse has a nerve after all.” Vastra stepped closer still, slowly removing the glove from her left hand, watching Jenny’s eyes follow her movements. Hand from the glove and the hand to her face, cupping her chin, nails pressing gently into the soft skin under her jaw.

She leaned in, savoring the sound of Jenny’s accompanying gasp. Quiet enough she might not have known how obvious it was. “If you must know. Ready-made shoes don’t fit and I’ve yet to find a cobbler willing to measure me for a bespoke pair. And besides.”

Closer, and closer, her mouth a hair’s-breadth from Jenny’s ear. Her voice down to a whisper, now. “I enjoy the feeling of the ground beneath my feet. The world below. I can feel it, all of it, all the way down to the core.”

“And all the dirt and soot and shite as well, I imagine.”

Vastra laughed again, low and rumbling from deep in her chest. “Come, my girl. We must continue this conversation. But somewhere more private, I think.”

 

 

 

Jenny guessed that ‘continue the conversation’ was a, what would you call it, one of those things where you say one thing and mean something else entirely. Said, as it was, like a proposition. She’d seen the way Vastra had looked at her. She’d looked at Vastra in much the same way.

Jenny was right. Vastra’s house was massive and well-appointed, or at least the few bits of it she saw were, the details she gathered before being kissed hard and insistent just inside the front door, and kissed all the way up the grand staircase. Slow, fumbling, stumbling; Vastra uncharacteristically graceless, her feathered hat askew. The gas lamps flickering.

A bedroom, a bed the size of a carriage - wider than her arms outstretched as she fell backwards, as soft as clouds looked. She watched Vastra carefully divest herself of her many layers, veil and dress and corset, complicated undergarments, unhooking finally a padded false-breast contraption to reveal herself as she was. Long and lean and smooth, backlit, scales shining. An angel, or a demon, or both.

Jenny shivered as Vastra climbed into bed with her, straddled her. Fingers deftly undoing her own, considerably less fanciful, clothing. The servant’s frock pulled over her head. And there they were.

A bad decision, for sure, but one Jenny very much wanted to make.

 

 

 

“I’m not a mouse, ma'am.”

One the more marvelously incongruous sentences Vastra had ever heard, coming as it was from the mouth of the small, warm, fuzzy creature above her. Round and pink and alien, all soft flesh and odd tufts of hair.

“Forgive me,” Vastra said, pulling Jenny close enough to nip at the vulnerable spot between her neck and her shoulder. “I mix up my mammals, sometimes.”

“Well,” Jenny replied, heading south. “Mice are quite small. Could fit in the palm of your hand. Humans - that’s what I am - are a fair bit larger.”

Vastra hissed, pulled her legs up around Jenny’s. Enjoying how Jenny’s back arched at the contact of Vastra’s claws against her skin, how her fur ruffled and rubbed against the pads of her feet.

“And I imagine a mouse wouldn’t make as good a companion,” Vastra said, before instantly wishing she hadn’t. She rolled her eyes at herself, then looked up:

Jenny, kneeling in front of her, smiling shyly, almost defiantly. Self-possessed, like prey who knew they could escape the trap. Who had, evidently, gone into the trap on purpose. She bent and pressed her lips to Vastra’s knee, pausing before trailing downwards.

Vastra stretched, flexed, extended her claws to their full length. “I could kill you. Easily.”

“You won’t,” Jenny said. Her mouth open, breathing hot damp air against the top of Vastra’s foot. And she grinned, and winked, and wrapped her lips around one of Vastra’s claws.

Physically, a non-starter; she’d put an end to it before long, or else risk boredom. But the daring of it, oh. This creature holding death in her mouth, and enjoying it. Bravery, or stupidity, or neither, or both. Calling her bluff, or. Or. Trusting her, which was an odd experience. Certainly not one she deserved, probably not one she wanted. Even if it did feel like - _something._ She hadn’t decided yet.

Jenny now with her hands wrapped around Vastra’s calf, guiding her foot down between her breasts, claws leaving behind red lines and evidently getting something quite extraordinary out of it.

Humans. Always flinging themselves hedonistically into the void. It’d be their destruction one of these days. Fingers, as they said, crossed.


End file.
